A Marriage Goes A Long Way
by lilyotvalley
Summary: Five years after the war, one very determined group has set a plan into motion that has been years in the making, and would destroy the lives of dozens of innocent women. Taking a chance on a mad rescue plan, two people entwine their lives irrevocably together. Gryffindors, after all, are a sensible lot; what could possibly go wrong? /Rather different take on Marriage Law Fic/ MA
1. Chapter 1

_First of all, I had uploaded the first two chapters of this story before, so if it seems familiar, don't be surprised. There's a long and stupid story behind it, but I won't bore you with that. Here goes nothing!_

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 _Welcome to the first Chapter of A Marriage Goes A Long Way_

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 _Rating: Mature, nothing for the delicate._

 _Warnings : Still warning you, there will be lemons and there will be violence. Also this is obviously a 'little' AU, as are about 99% of fanfictions that don't follow every single canon. So don't be too surprised when you see characters that should be dead, or anything else for that matter. And please bear in mind that this story is solely for fun, because the real world can get too serious at times and we all could use an escape._

 _Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, her publishers, and Time Warner, and I think we are all very aware of that. _

_Like many people my age, I have gotten to grow up right alongside this story of a boy who lived in the cupboard under the stairs. And because this very story showed us the beauty of imagination, here comes mine._

 _In light of most recent events, I would also like to point out that just because I like these books, doesn't mean I agree with any LGBTQ-phobic or racist comments made by JKR. I firmly believe that the story of Harry Potter is a product of its time, and that its general message of love and compassion shaped the way WE think and fight for a better world, against oppression and injustice. I also believe that someone should have taken twitter away from JKR after the last HP-film came out, because, honestly._

 _Constructive criticism is always welcome, but if you don't like this because of the theme or the pairing, feel free to look for something more to your taste. There are hundreds of thousands of stories on this website alone, after all._

 _Please leave a Review or Favourite or Follow the story if you feel like it, that would be lovely and greatly appreciated!_

 _I hope you enjoy this,_

 _love, Lily._

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 _Ch.1 / Prologue_

 _Here we go again; on the dot,_ Hermione Granger thought to herself, not able to help a smile as she adjusted her cloak and faced the red-headed man waiting outside her office.

Ron Weasley, who had been staring down Hermione's assistant Duncan, turned and gave her an easy smile in return, although Hermione could see the alertness in his broad shouldered stance.

"Hello Hermione! I was thinking of taking you out to lunch?"

She nodded at him, like she had done almost every other day in the last few months, and chatting, they made their way through the throng of lunch-goers to the lifts and – ignoring the occasional stares from left and right – managed to get to Muggle-London.

The stares weren't something Hermione wasn't used to, since beginning her career in the Ministry of Magic, almost four years ago. Even though she had gone back to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year, so the happenings of the war and her involvement in them had not been as fresh on people's minds once she had started her internship in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Hermione had been mind-boggled by the attention of the people. Everyone had seemed to point and stare, everyday and everywhere, making her incredibly uncomfortable.

But now, Hermione knew it wasn't just _her_ unwanted fame that made the heads turn. The young man beside her was renowned as one third of the Golden Trio and, Hermione admitted, again smiling to herself, wonderfully handsome.

Once they reached the pub they usually frequented and placed their orders, they found a table at the far back.

"I think Susan would love a simple dinner. She's not the type for over the top gestures."

Talking to your ex-boyfriend about his new girlfriend might have been uncomfortable for some people, but Hermione and Ron had, after a year of dating, a few months of awkward dancing-around-each-other, one completely pissed New Years Eve-clash, the slightly less drunk talk the next day, and the ensuing long overdue closure, established a friendship that was just as platonic as the one they had with Harry.

Ron pondered her for a moment. "So I shouldn't rent one of those muggle thingies to have it written in the sky?"

Hermione gave him a look and Ron chuckled.

"I could probably have the lads on their brooms doing that anyway."

Speak of the devil and he doth appear, this time in the form of a moderately tall, broad-shouldered man with untidy black hair and intimidating stance, pushing his way through the midday crowd of the pub. Some of the patrons looked up to watch the curiously dressed man approach their table, but most were regulars, thus used to the trio.

"There you are! Duncan pointed me in your direction. Am I intruding?"

Eyeing the pair with his stony auror face, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived extraordinaire, scooted into the booth right beside Hermione.

"Don't be silly!" Hermione voiced cheerily, flashing her pearly teeth as she made room for him. "We were just talking about the proposal. Do you want to eat with us? How are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks!"

Harry softened his face muscles to a small grin. "Still no idea how to propose?"

Poor Ron let his head clonk on the table as Harry turned away from the room, shrugging his coat off his shoulders. He looked every bit the sharp and deadly auror, no trace of the thin, knobbly young boy she had met on the Hogwarts Express.

"And no to the food, I had a luncheon with Kingsley and Sirius. I just wanted to take a break; see what you were up to."

Ron lifted his head back up, an urgent gleam in his blue eyes. "Was the luncheon about Crouch's nephew? The bloody arse finally got it, didn't he?"

Hermione watched how her best friend ran a large hand over his face to hide a grimace. Upon closer look, she noticed that he had rings under his eyes, and the lines around his lips and eyes were too ingrained for a man in his early twenties. She could have sworn he hadn't looked that way a few weeks ago.

"He was urged to resign from his position, yes, but unfortunately that's as far as we can go," Harry replied, a dark look settling on his face, making him look very much older than his twenty-two years. "We can't prove that he was _actually_ involved in the attack on that girl, so he's bloody free to go."

Ron's eyebrows drew together in sudden rage. "That bastard almost mutilates the girl and we can't _prove_ it?"

"Wait a sec," Hermione interrupted the two aurors. "Are we talking about Andrew Crouch? One of your subordinates?"

As superintendent-auror, Harry was the (youngest) leader of one of three divisions that the Auror Corps was divided into. The three superintendents were answering directly to Sirius Black, who had taken over as the head of the Auror Office. After Kingsley Shacklebolt had been appointed the Minister of Magic, he had tried to occupy all the important positions with the most trusted and capable people he could find. Remus Lupin had – after lots of resistance – agreed to take on the role of heading the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, making him Hermione's boss, and a revolutionary first in such a position. Ron and Neville Longbottom were working in Harry's division, but Hermione knew that neither Ron nor Neville were made for the unpredictable and violent lifestyle of an auror. They were too gentle, had too much joy in other things. Not like Harry. Harry had always had a natural instinct to fight, to bring the bad one's down and protect everyone else in the process, no matter how deserving of kindness they were.

"Yes," Harry answered her question, nudging her neglected bowl of soup closer to her. "I couldn't tell you while the investigation was still going on, but Andrew was one of the main suspects in the attack on that girl two weeks ago. Though she couldn't properly describe the man, various people had seen Andrew, and someone else in a muggle raincoat, lingering around the place it happened. There are a few clues, but nothing to tie him down. So Sirius wanted to get him out of the Auror Office, and scared him with a trial and some half-truths. This way, we can at least keep an eye on him."

Pushing her soup back away, Hermione leaned back, feeling slightly sick.

For months now, had the wizarding world of Britain been plagued by the news of seemingly random attacks on young, muggleborn witches. What linked them together were their unmarried status, their age, ancestry, and the fact that none of them could describe their attackers. The victims' injuries varied from mere scratches to seriously abused bodies. These attacks were one of the reasons she had been so surprised at Harry's recent absence. Once the Auror Office had determined a pattern that deemed Hermione in the group of possible targets, Harry and Ron had taken to shadowing her every step – and not just in the Ministry during lunch. One of them stopped in every night to make sure her wards were properly set; they had all but forbidden her to go out alone, forcing her to ask Ginny or Luna or _anyone,_ really, to accompany her; and the worst of all: they had managed to get everyone else just as worried as they were. Which basically meant that she had to put up with Molly Weasley _suffocating_ her. She knew that they were doing it out of love, which was really the only reason she let their overprotective demeanour slide.

And now this. Hermione had shaken hands with Andrew Crouch. She had met him as one of the older recruits Harry had in his squad. He had seemed a little full of himself, not very happy that a 'squirt' like Harry was promoted before him, but nothing that was unusual in most old wizarding families.

Hermione saw the look her two friends exchanged and clenched her jaw. They might have become harder in the process of their work, but Hermione wouldn't let them handle her with kid gloves, just because she wasn't an auror like _them_.

"I'll stop by Sirius' office to get the details later," Ron changed the subject. "What's Gin' up to, today?"

Harry cleared his throat, his green eyes showing his compassion. "I think Mrs. Weasley wrote her to bring more eggs to the Burrow, the kids apparently already ran out. She went shopping after her training."

Immediately a sigh left Hermione. Easter Weekend at the Burrow, right.


	2. Chapter 2

_A Marriage Goes A Long Way_

 _Chapter Two_

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 _Author's note in chapter one applies to this chapter as well! Feel free to tell me what you think!_

 _love,_

 _Lily_

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2.

It was one of those days at the Burrow.

Hermione had woken up to the sound of the Weasley brothers shuffling around the landing for the bathroom rights, not holding back with grunts or the occasional rude comment, their large forms causing quite the ruckus.

It was the Easter weekend, five years after the battle of Hogwarts, and Mrs. Weasley had ordered all seven Weasley children, including grandchildren, four wives, and Hermione, back home for some quality time. Ginny couldn't understand the point in sleeping over if all of them could simply floo from wherever they lived, but she had begrudgingly agreed to abandon hers and Hermione's little flat in central London, in favour of sharing a bedroom in the cramped Burrow. Hermione knew, of course, that she only had been so uncooperative because Harry had managed to stay away from the sleepover, by claiming that he and his godfather were doing a little of their own family thing.

Hermione didn't mind staying at the Burrow. Happy, loud, chaotic; it always felt like family vacation. That some of her best friends were either born or married into the Weasley's only increased the love she had for her surrogate family. Since her repeat seventh year in Hogwarts, Hermione enjoyed the silly fun she could have with people outside of Harry and Ron. First it had been odd, being in Hogwarts without her two best friends by her side, but she had quickly realized that it was simply different, not _worse_. They hadn't been running away anymore, or preparing for battle, or trying to figure out some great mystery that was overshadowing their normal lives. So for the first time in seven years, the Golden Trio had parted ways; Harry and Ron beginning training in the Auror-Camp, and Hermione boarding the train at King's Cross.

Mrs. Weasley's voice boomed through the house, demanding her sons to quit the childish behaviour, and Hermione could hear Ginny's irritated groan as the redhead moved her pillow over her head. Hermione flopped back into the sheets, deciding that she would wait out the first round of breakfast for the Weasley boys, before going downstairs.

...

She must have nodded off again, because the next time she awoke, the door to their room swung slowly open. When Hermione couldn't spot the person at first glance, her eyes lowered in a practiced move, prompting a smile to spread across her features. There, in the doorway, stood a small boy, mischievous eyes glimmering in the morning light. His hair was a shining yellow, and he carried a soft looking, small blanket in his hands that he lifted up to his smiling face.

"Momma says to come down," he announced rather adorably, and Hermione couldn't resist jumping out of bed and catching him in her arms while he giddily tried to escape her tickling fingers.

"Well, hello there young man," she laughed, poking his belly.

Little Alexander Lupin had just turned three years old, and already reminded everyone of his big brother's naughty ways. Unlike Teddy's outgoing, confident personality, though, Alex took much longer to warm up to people. Harry was naturally one of the closest confidants for the two kids, which in turn made Hermione and Ron a familiar presence in their lives.

A groan was emitted from the bed across the room, and Ginny lifted her body slowly from her own bed, before a sleepy smile appeared on her face.

"I didn't know you were coming over, darling," she nudged Alex's little nose and grabbed hers and Hermione's red striped morning gowns, before they made their way into the finally abandoned bathroom, starting a synchronised morning routine under the curious eyes of the smallest Lupin. It was supposed to be an informal family breakfast, ahead of a day hunting for Easter eggs and enjoying Mrs. Weasley's Sunday cooking, which was why the girls didn't bother with much.

As Hermione gripped Alex in her arms, she was so preoccupied with the little boy that the unexpected gathering downstairs made her stop in her tracks, causing Ginny to walk right into her.

"Why are you...?" The redhead's voice drifted off as people looked briefly up to them, before continuing their somewhat muted interactions. "Uhm, good morning."

Apparently, not only the Lupin family had decided to unexpectedly drop in for Mrs. Weasley's breakfast. While it was not all that extraordinary for people to randomly gather at the Burrow, Hermione had not expected for Harry and Sirius to be in attendance, after their heartfelt assurances of having other plans; or for both Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood to have seemingly left their better halves at home, in favour of chatting over tea in one corner. Tonks' mother Andromeda and Professor McGonagall, however, were the most bizarre sight – residing in chairs and talking to the eldest Weasley brothers, while the twins were outside with their wives. Kids were running or crawling around, making even more noise to compensate for the silence of the grown-ups.

Whatever was going on, Hermione regretted not putting a bra on this morning, never mind getting dressed; even though it had been a number of years, and the constellation wasn't quite the same, the atmosphere eerily reminded her of Order meetings.

"Oh, there you are!" Molly Weasley interrupted the girls' confusion as she entered with a heavily laden tray of biscuits and tea. The sturdy looking woman moved past them for witches and wizards to shuffle around, grabbing something or other before settling back around the living room. Hermione noticed that even though the room was cramped with people, not everyone she would expect was present; the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Percy Weasley were missing, just like Mr. Weasley Senior himself. Across the room, Harry and Ron were flanking the imposing form of Sirius Black, who looked up from his moody stare at the fireplace to meet Hermione's eyes, making her sigh.

After his name had been cleared in the aftermath of the battle at the ministry in their fifth year, Sirius Black had managed to set back foot into life as a free man. He had become the almost only member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight on the side of the light during the war – at least the almost only one with any reach into the ministry. He had stayed in contact with the trio as they were on the run in their seventh year, and he had led the order together with Kingsley and Remus when everyone had been forced to hold their heads low after Bill's wedding. Even under Voldemort's open terror regime, he had managed to rescue more than a few muggleborns and 'blood traitors' from the Ministry's clutches.

All in all, Sirius Black had reinstated his legendary stand in the wizarding world, doubled the part, and now he was not only very well respected, feared, and admired, he had even taken over as Head-Auror. Harry had finally gotten to live with him after the war, and after their training, Ron had moved in too.

Fitting his position, Sirius had somehow snagged the most comfortable armchair in the room; although, Hermione noticed, he was offering it immediately to Tonks as she appeared from the kitchen, Remus Lupin right at her heels. Almost no one knew, but she was very early on with their third child.

Behaviour like this had been what had started off Hermione's unwanted attraction towards the last Black scion. She hadn't seen him for a long while after the incident at the Ministry, then, when they had crossed paths shortly before Bill's wedding, he had been a changed man. Or maybe _she_ had changed. Hermione didn't know. She had been dancing with Viktor when he had cut in, and absolutely flabbergasted at this move, Hermione had only been able to follow his steps.

...

 _"Cat got your tongue, Granger?"_

 _She flushed at his joke, swallowing a comeback. She tried not to take his jokes as seriously as before; mostly because she refused to act like a fifteen year old brat, when_ he _wasn't acting like a defiant, pubescent boy anymore. It was as if the clearing of his name had renewed his will to properly live the life he had stumbled back into._

 _His hand on her back tightened. "I'm glad he has you."_

 _Surprised she looked up into his face. "Pardon?"_

 _The charming smile was absent from his face, replaced by the knowing expression of a man, who had seen and done it all. "I know you three are planning something. I'm glad he has a Remus of his own."_

 _She lifted an eyebrow. "Which would make Ron his Sirius?"_

 _They both glanced at the youngest red-headed male in the room, who was clumsily navigating the dancefloor with a cousin of Fleur's._

 _"Well," Sirius cringed as Ron jerked the girl too far to the right, instead of swaying smoothly like Sirius was doing with Hermione. "At least in the manner that counts."_

 _Hermione would be lying if she said that she wasn't surprised at this. No matter how dire the situation, Sirius Black put style first._

 _He nudged her closer, murmuring under his breath, "Listen, I know you are the smartest witch out there, and Ron might not be more graceful than a troll, but you two and a bloody ridiculous amount of sheer luck are the only things that have kept Harry alive since the moment he has stepped back foot into the wizarding world."_

 _Hermione shuddered at his serious tone._

 _"I need you to keep an eye on them, because Merlin knows they are doomed without you. But I also need you to let them take care of you every now and then; once you're out there, there's no going back. You'll need each other more than ever before."_

 _She, Harry, and Ron had been ready to move for weeks now. "I know."_

 _He met her worried stare with a curious little smile. "Chin up, Gryffindor. If we can't win a war, who will?"_

...

And that had been it. She had repeated his voice in her head over and over again in the following months; whenever she felt close to breaking, she had reminded herself that the great Sirius Black thought she could do it, and even now, years later, she pulled strength from his trust.

At what point she had started to fancy the pants off of him, was still a mystery though.

She noticed Harry making his way towards Ginny and herself.

"Hello there," Harry murmured, placing a kiss on his fiancée's cheek.

"Do you know what is going on?" Ginny asked at the same time Hermione demanded, "What is happening?"

He shrugged to both of them. "No idea. We received Kingsley's patronus this morning, ordering us to the Burrow. Although..."

Hermione perked up. "What is it?"

Harry shrugged again, a little more edgy this time. "Sirius seems off. And so do a few of the others here. I don't know why, though."

Hermione glanced around. A few tense shoulders, one or two people holding their teacups a little too tight; it was in the details.

While Alex waved at his mother before hiding his face in Hermione's neck, she wrecked her brain for any indication on what could be the reason for all this. At her lunch with Ron and Harry two days ago, both men had only talked about those bloody attacks, which were firmly handled by the aurors. They hadn't mentioned anything relating to a case of Death Eaters or a compromised Ministry of Magic, which kind of fell into the range the Order had operated in. She watched Ron and Neville whispering to each other, glancing at Sirius who in turn was nodding at something Lupin was saying, all four men looking troubled.

Displeasure built up in Hermione. Since Harry and Ron had become full-fledged aurors, they seemed to be thinking that Hermione wasn't emotionally or physically capable of dealing with dark magic. Her bloody best friends, who she had fought an entire war with, might have been officially entitled to work-related stress and secretive behaviour, but every now and then, when she got the feeling that they were unnecessarily leaving her in the dark, she wanted to rip their heads off.

The floo roared to life in that moment, and three figures stepped into the living room, crowding the space even more.

Hermione instantly spotted the serious expressions on the men's faces.

"Arthur? What is the matter?"

Mrs. Weasley bustled to her husband's side, her hands fluttering nervously. Mr. Weasley looked, to Hermione's utter surprise, straight towards the back where the three former Gryffindors were standing. She subconsciously took a step closer to Harry. Old habits died hard.

"Good morning, everyone. Thank you all for coming on such short notice."

Curious glances were concentrated on poor Mr. Weasley, who seemed to be trying to take in the mood. Alex squirmed a little in Hermione's hold, and she handed him over to Harry, who immediately welcomed the boy into his arms.

Arthur Weasley finally looked at Kingsley, who was assessing the people in the room, before nodding at Percy, who then dropped some rather thick files on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

"What's that?"

It was Sirius who spoke up, his eyes scanning the high clearance sign on the top file. His already tense posture was getting more rigid, and Hermione wondered if he anticipated what was coming. Or maybe it was his Head-Auror way of asking why there was essentially a crime being committed during Sunday morning breakfast.

"These are exact copies of the files Hugh Babikus had his secretary send out to every member of the Neutral Nine currently in the Wizengamot."

The 'Neutral Nine' were the nine Wizengamot members, who had neither last time nor twenty years ago, chosen a side in the war against Voldemort. Hermione didn't know much about them, other than them being opportunist snobs.

"So?" Bill Weasley asked, moving to take a look at the documents.

"So..." Mr. Weasley sighed. "We have a serious matter to handle."

* * *

" _Marriage_? They want those poor girls _married_?" McGonagall's appalled voice echoed through the otherwise silent room.

They were all gathered around the kitchen table, reading through the massive stack of files spread out before them.

"It is a law that supposedly ensures the safety of those girls. That's politics for you. They laid out the foundations months ago."

"But ho-...we WON the war! The bad guys are all supposed to be behind bars! Or at least without any remaining power!" Ginny spluttered, shock written all over her face.

"Not all bad people are Death Eaters, Ginny," Remus contradicted wearily. "There are still witches and wizards in powerful positions that didn't choose a side in the war, but are nonetheless...traditional. Muggleborns and other beings with 'tainted' blood have been seen as inferior by some, long before Voldemort even existed."

"But _why_? _What is the point_?" Hermione brushed over the law texts in front of her. "I mean, no one with a spark of sense would believe this might actually be a solution. That marrying a muggleborn to a pureblood would protect the muggleborn from harm – from these attacks – and have the happy side effect that it'd eliminate future elitist pureblood-kids, who _might be_ behind those attacks. Especially since it would only concern female muggleborns in a certain age group. That'll hardly breed out future Draco's for good." She ignored Ron's snort. "No one smart enough to evade Voldemort in both wars would truly think that, much less concoct it. There must be another reason for this marriage...law. And still, from the very first sentence, these people have written the texts in a way that will appeal to the crowds, as if it were to protect the girls." She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. "Not getting into detail about _how_ it would be a good idea, just that it _is_ one. It's almost as if the attacks..." Hermione's brain went on a rampage as a thought struck her, and her voice died down.

"...were the perfect excuse to push this law through. Not the other way around."

Grey eyes clashed with brown, and Hermione swallowed. How could she not have recognised his intelligence all those years ago, when she was fifteen and fighting with him at Grimmauld Place? She had been distracted by his arrogance, the troublemaker and rebel too dominant for her naive mind to see beyond it. But he was always on the same page as her, always ready to fight for the right cause, always up to protect Harry, always quicker than most others in the room.

"Wait wait wait. You mean to say that the attacks are because of the law, not the law because of the attacks?" Ron uttered.

"They seem to be using the attacks on young witches – which might have been planned and executed by the officials behind this law – to justify the incarceration and control over all muggleborn witches between their twentieth and twenty-fifth birthdays. Why not wizards or a bigger age scale?" Hermione mused bluntly and gave herself the answer right away, "The smaller the affected group, the smaller the uproar. Every attacked witch was in this age group, after all, and single."

Bill took one of the handwritten notes from the stack, shaking his head. "They make it seem a brilliant solution: pureblooded, biased families will 'taint' their precious family trees, while the next generation will grow up with the admirable picture of a non-prejudiced world. The women are first and foremost protected, because who would hurt one of their own, right? But think about it: with the magical world's still backwards laws, marital rape is not liable to prosecution..."

Charlie jumped in: "Which all in all means that young, promising women who have fought on our side in Hogwarts, and are on the right side of the moral index, and ready to fight again if needed, are forced to marry into the Sacred Twenty-Eight, where they'll be raped and controlled methodically over weeks and essentially broken."

Mrs. Weasley gasped at her son's crude words, covering her mouth without reprimanding him.

"What if the witches just don't do it? They can't seriously force them, right?"

"It's a bloody law, George, they can't force you not to kill someone but they'll track you down and put you away if you do."

The room was silent for several long minutes.

"The procedures are on the way already, aren't they?" Harry noted carefully. "They kept this under tight wraps until it was too late for us to intervene. That's why you lot stomped in here with this haste."

Slowly all eyes focused on the Boy Who Lived, who, for the first time in history, seemed to be the first one to notice something essential.

"There are requests to be made," Arthur Weasley started out.

"Percy was able to look into the files that weren't intercepted," Kingsley continued, his eyes darting over the table until they stopped at Hermione. "Almost all of the requests were entered for one particular witch."

This wasn't only about breaking young women and possibly gaining control over lost Death Eater territories. This was about something else.

"Me?" Hermione squeaked. It was true that she might be the most _prominent_ muggleborn witch, but...

"So _that's_ 'why at all'," Ron choked out. "They...they want Hermione, either out of revenge and prejudice, or...or to get to Harry. This thing is only an excuse to not affect many witches in the process of getting control over her, and in the long run over Harry and well, all of us."

Harry was and would probably always be the centre of their revolutionary forces. Hermione swallowed, nodding along. "I'm twenty-three, I'm muggleborn. No matter how I twist and wriggle it, I wouldn't get out of it."

Kingsley nodded once in affirmation.

"Hold on, how do we actually know that?" Fred spoke up from the back.

"Yeah, how are you so sure that's the reason? Maybe they just fancy her," George continued.

"Or her _fame_."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Most of them _hate_ me. And if this weren't a setup, why would there be a list of requests _anyway_? I mean the law is neither supposed to be public, nor is there a guarantee that it will get through." She shuffled through the papers to look for something backing her theory up. "I can't imagine that this is a coincidence, that there is no reason behind the law and the obvious interest in _me_ , of all peo-... There!" she exclaimed and pulled out a list of Wizengamot members. "This might be the proof we're looking for. Some of these names have little notes added next to them and others are crossed over. I know for a fact that Amanda Hutcherson," she pointed to her name and the scribbled _daughter_ next to it, "has a daughter in Azkaban, who has just appealed to the court for an early release. And _maybe_ ," Hermione looked at Kingsley, then at Sirius, "if her mother gives the right vote to the Neutral Nine, she might be granted that appeal."

"You think they're bought out?"

First the attacks, then marrying women off to shady people with dodgy intentions, and, to top it all off, extorting Wizengamot members? All that to get to Hermione? She had to admit that it sounded unlikely. Surely there must be easier ways to weaken Harry, or the former Order, if that were truly what this was all about.

"If someone doesn't like the changes happening since the war, the people in this room must be his primary issue," Remus voiced quietly. "Many people don't like me handling a Department...no it's alright," he added as Tonks gripped his hand tightly and Sirius growled from next to him. Remus looked to his best friend. "And Sirius and Kingsley enforcing all the laws that have been conveniently overlooked when Fudge was taking bribes, has rubbed some people the wrong way. We all know that as long as we can remain where we are there's change going on, but if Harry..."

It almost felt as if they were still in battle, constant scheming and playing for eventualities.

"If someone wants to disrupt the road we're taking, _publicly_ , it would be through Harry; but to get to Harry, one has to go through Hermione."

Hermione looked up as Remus smiled softly down at her. She raised her voice in protest. "I'm hardly..."

Tonks' chuckle interrupted her. "No, love, but we're all a bit scared of you, y'see. I think other people see you as even more of a dragon than what Charlie over there has in his backyard."

Charlie answered with a scratch of his chin and a deceptively innocent smile, while Fred and George guffawed.

Sirius put an end to the shenanigans he usually supported. "If Hermione gets married to one of those bastards, we won't be able to protect her, hell; she might not be able to protect _herself_."

Hermione felt more than saw Harry sitting down beside her. "Bloody hell," he swore as all mirth left the room.

"No matter the reason behind the law: I am the execution, not the legislation," Kingsley finally said. "I don't make the laws and I cannot bypass the Wizengamot if the majority votes for the law."

Mr. Weasley rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Especially because the ministry is still practically a war zone, with all those investigations and changes going on. We are at our wits' end. There is simply not enough time to prevent this from happening in the normal ways."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. The only way for girls to get out of this would be...

"What happens to married girls?" Hermione's voice cut through the outraged mumbling.

"Whadd'ya mean?" Ron asked from next to her, scratching his head.

"Well," she began, "when you are already married, you can't be forced to marry someone else, can you?"

"No," Remus answered slowly, "they wouldn't be able to break up marriages that are legally and magically binding. That's simply not done."

"So what're you gonna do? Go around, marry every muggleborn witch between twenty and twenty-five off to some random bloke?" Tonks piped up from beside her husband.

"That wouldn't work anyway," Sirius interjected while studying the papers. "Do you know how many witches that is? It would take way too long to orchestrate something like that. It wouldn't make us much better than the law, either."

Hermione shook her head. "I was thinking more along the lines of _me_ getting married."

The whole room halted.

"What?"

"Are you serious?"

" _To whom?_ "

"Uh," Hermione shrugged. "I don't know to whom, honestly, but hypothetically speaking it might work, correct?"

"Well," Kingsley mused, "there is not much room to play around. It could stop the proceedings of the law, if its primary purpose proves to be unreachable."

"But we can't be sure. Maybe Hermione's role in this is a mere coincidence," Mr. Weasley cut in. "We don't _exactly_ know what is going on. But more importantly, we do not know to what lengths they would go to, to meet their end of things. Look at the attacks; they clearly have no scruples."

Hermione nodded. "They could try and break up my marriage, or they could try and get rid of my 'husband'. They could simply find another way of getting to Harry."

"B-But..." Harry raked his fingers through his hair, probably trying to bring his brain to connect the dots. "All that's hypothetical. What we do know is that Hermione would be affected by this law. We need to figure out how to get her out of it one way or another. I can't believe I'm saying these words out loud, but there is no way she is getting _married_ to some bigoted bastard!"

All through the room sounded affirmative grunts.

Touched, Hermione smiled.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat; an idea seemed to be blooming behind his forehead. "Well."

Expectant eyes met his hesitant ones.

"If Hermione were to get married," he began again, "it would have to be to someone powerful, right? A pureblood, whose name alone could protect her from half the troubles out there, and who would not be easily taken out. Someone with experience in the Dark Arts, with the Ministry, and these people; someone we could trust inexplicably, one of our own."

No one dared to make assumptions following Mr. Weasley's words, but Hermione's brain rattled through all the names and faces that could possibly fit that description.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus slump into his seat and stare incredulously around the assembled people. McGonagall suddenly made a choking noise.

Then it clicked.

But before Hermione could even make a sound, a deep, scratchy voice beat her to it.

"You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me."

* * *

 _If the information dump seems confusing, worry not, things will explain themselves as we go on._


	3. Chapter 3

_A Marriage Goes A Long Way_

 _Chapter Three_

* * *

 _Thank you all so much for the great response to the last chapters! A special thanks to all those who took the time to review! I will try and answer any questions posed._

 _Author's note in chapter one applies to this chapter as well! Feel free to tell me what you think! And don't forget to Follow or Favourite :)_

 _Love,_

 _Lily_

* * *

3.

Hermione didn't know what was worse: Mrs. Weasley's wailing in the kitchen, or the constant yelling in the rest of the house.

But slowly – as her mind had come to a conclusion about the situation, and her stress levels had sunk to a bearable degree – her appetite had returned, and she now made her way over to where Tonks and Fleur were trying to console Mrs. Weasley. A furious Professor McGonagall was murmuring about idiotic, old men in regrettable positions of power, although, upon closer inspection she looked just as much annoyed by Mrs. Weasley's antics as the situation itself.

Hermione accepted a fresh cup of tea from Angelina, before sitting down in an empty seat and shuffling the cold eggs on her plate.

"Are you alright?"

Tonks sat down next to her, reaching for the bread.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not as upset as everyone in _there_." She pointed her fork at the living room, where the fighting part of their little gathering was stationed.

"You don't seem too bothered," Katie remarked curiously, as she joined them.

Hermione sighed. She _was_ bothered. Of course she was bothered.

This wasn't an ideal scenario, was it? Getting married to Sirius Black of all people, to escape a horrendous marriage law that would not only turn her, but various other innocent witches into the clutches of bigoted bastards, as Harry had put it.

But she had always been able to dissect intelligence without investing herself emotionally.

They had studied the texts the whole morning. And they had found _nothing_. No other option.

They didn't know how many of the Wizengamot were actually pro this law, and how many were bought out or bullied by the Neutral Nine, but fact was that in eight days time, when the predetermined group of legal advocates would congregate to hear and discuss propositions concerning changes to the Magical Law, they would approve of this one. They then would proceed to refine it and announce it to the public, in order to gauge the general response, before officially presenting it in front of the whole Wizengamot to be voted upon. And then there would be no legal way out.

The only thing that might actually stop it now, would be the knowledge that their primary purpose wouldn't be met, and the hassle to push it through simply not worth it or necessary otherwise.

So Hermione would have to marry. As quickly as possible.

But since none of them really knew to what lengths they would go to to reach their goal, Hermione would need as much protection as possible.

Enter Sirius.

He was infamous; loved and admired by one part of society, and feared out of self preservation by the other. He was a pureblood, and within the still changing pro-pureblood laws, he was favoured and protected. He had his family's seat in the Wizengamot, as would his wife. He had high clearance within the ministry, and was a well respected member of the wizarding society.

And most of all, he could be trusted.

He was brave, and he was loyal to a fault. Neither his commitment to Harry, nor the one to _her_ , would allow him to leave her unprotected.

And once all this was laid out in front of everyone, they had flipped out.

Harry had blanched and sat down before pacing around the room, making his unease clear – Ginny on his heels; Ron had started spitting and spluttering about the unfairness of it all, his brothers were still trying to calm him down. Remus, Percy, Luna and Neville were mumbling between themselves, Merlin knew what about.

And since Sirius was busy telling Mr. Weasley and Kingsley off, Hermione had decided to join the more sensible group in the cosy kitchen.

"I _am_ bothered," she finally answered Katie. "But I don't see the point in acting like a child."

"Well, you never did _that_ ," McGonagall confirmed from across the table.

Hermione felt a rather infantile sense of accomplishment swell her chest.

Mrs. Weasley, however, wasn't as easily calmed. She stood up and threw her arms around Hermione, who stopped mid-chew to pat the distraught woman on the arm.

"But marriage!" she cried. "To Sirius! He is too wild for such a sweet, little girl like you! And what about the future? Children?"

Hermione cringed. _Sweet, little girl_ hardly seemed fitting anymore. And whatever did she mean by _children_?

"Mum don't pressure her," Ginny murmured, finally joining them in the kitchen, "this is weird enough without you taking the indecency to heart."

Suddenly aware of silence and then commotion, they watched the rest of their congregation walk in behind an eye-rolling Remus. Hermione heard McGonagall snort at the picture they made.

"Time to get serious now," Remus announced, settling around the kitchen table.

Again, it eerily reminded Hermione of Order meetings she hadn't really been allowed to attend. Remus seemed to be watching her curiously now, probably trying to figure out how she seemed so calm, but finding nothing in her carefully schooled face. He addressed the room – leaving Hermione to sink a little back in her seat, until she felt another pair of eyes watching her. But she refused to meet those just yet.

"As it seems, there is not much to do. We can take our chances and see how the procedures play out, or we can try and thwart them in the making. Either way we need to protect Hermione from a forced marriage."

Serious nodding all around the table was the only answer, until Neville spoke up. "The decision remains with Hermione and well...Sirius I suppose, but there might be something else you should know." He glanced at Hermione. "If the right people make complaints and force the proper instances to look into it, then your marriage could be outed as fake and you could be forced to an annulment. The Finance Department sends us loads of those inquiries to look into; about tax-evasions, people trying to get to inheritances...anything that's slightly illegal, really."

"But we wouldn't be doing that! It's not illegal to get married for... _convenience._ "

Remus shook his head. "No, but most people who do that don't have others trying to break them up. The Neutral Nine could go through with the law, then fake some documents, have one of you incriminated, and done. The public would be scandalised, and you'd be free for the taking."

He was right. Why go to all this trouble, just to be stopped by something so obvious? They would know. The Neutral Nine would know that the marriage was fake.

"What about bonding?"

Hermione looked up as Luna threw the question into the round, blanching. She had read about bonding ceremonies.

"What's that?" Harry asked confusedly, watching the hesitant faces.

"Bonding ceremonies are an old tradition," Ginny explained to her boyfriend. "'Weaving the magic of two people irrevocably together'. Hardly anyone uses them anymore when getting married, for obvious reasons."

"Obvious reasons?"

"It's permanent," Tonks elaborated from across the table, "You can't divorce your partner. The _ceremony_ is to all intents and purposes a marriage of magic; _consummating_ your bond makes it a marriage of people. It takes a bit of a toll on the body, though, presumably because your magical core gets tied to another's. That's why it was never a primary marriage option for most; all sorts of myths and legends surround it, no one knows the beginning and full potential of bonding cores. Superstitious bollocks if you ask me. The bonding heightens instincts however, stuff like that. Apparently it's very...personal."

Hermione had known the implications, and she hadn't even considered that it might be a necessity. She had somehow assumed that they would marry to evade the law, then pretend until the whole issue was resolved, get a divorce eventually, and go their separate ways once it was safe to do so.

"Bill and I did it," Fleur piped up from the back. She was sitting on his lap and Hermione watched, not for the first time, the immense intimacy they shared by simply being in the same room.

Remus nodded. "Lily and James were bonded too."

Hermione felt Harry's hand on her shoulder tighten and she put hers over his. He still sought out everything Remus and Sirius could tell him about his parents, and there was still so much he didn't know.

A fist came down on the table, making almost everyone jump in surprise.

"ARE YOU COMPLETELY OUT OF YOUR MINDS?"

Hermione winced as Sirius forcefully stood up, fixing everyone with the most threatening glare she had seen in ages.

"She is Harry's bloody friend! And you're planning to fucking marry her off to me! And if that weren't enough, now you're suggesting for her to be _tied_ to me, for the _rest of her life_?"

"Pad," Remus intervened before he could continue, looking him directly in the eyes. The men seemed to have a silent conversation, everyone watching with bated breath, before Sirius abruptly turned his imploring, grey eyes on Hermione, calculating her just as silently. Then he righted himself.

"I'd like to talk to you. Alone."

Slightly dazed from his intense gaze, Hermione nodded and stood to follow him on shaky legs outside.

* * *

The sun was out, but the April weather wasn't terribly warm yet. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself as she followed Sirius to the other side of the house, out to the lake, where they could talk, away from the eyes that were undoubtedly watching them from the window.

Finally stopping, Sirius sighed and threw her a small smile, which she tried to reciprocate with one of her own.

"So..."

"So."

Chuckling, she leaned back on a large tree and watched him.

He was a truly good looking male. She had always thought that, hell, all the girl's had thought that. Even Mrs. Weasley used to have a small crush on him. Ginny and Angelina were constantly pointing out how sexy he was, and how he was always fashionably dressed, and how he must be glorious in bed, because _look at him_.

And look at him she did. He really was impeccably dressed, his robes speaking of taste and competence; his posture a testament to the years of training and fighting, a confidence few had the right to call their own. The tattoos and scars from his years as a prisoner in Azkaban were only serving to make him more intimidating and rugged, giving him an extra air of danger. He was, quite simply, attractive.

"Hermione?"

Hermione started involuntarily, never more aware of her getup, as Sirius looked her curiously over.

"Yes?"

"I asked if you were alright."

That was something too. He was caring.

She nodded. "Yes, I'm fine, how about you?"

He suddenly stepped closer to her, virtually caging her between himself and the tree. "You are fine?" he repeated incredulously. "You are practically forced to marry a man twice your age, a convicted murderer, and you are _fine_?"

Swallowing, Hermione lifted her eyes to meet his, brushing her hair over her shoulder with a tiny flick of the wrist. "Really, Sirius, you are Head-Auror, and the charge for murder was lifted from your record once the rat was proven to be alive."

He rolled his eyes at her, but didn't step back. "I'm still twice your age and you aren't freaking out about this whole mess."

Hermione sighed. Why could no one understand that freaking out in public, like a child, wasn't really her thing? He'd be surprised at the amount of freaking out she planned to do later that night, but now? "I don't see the point. I studied the texts. I might not be a lawyer but I consider myself capable of understanding complex writings," she was briefly interrupted by a snort, "and I know my options. _Maybe_ there is another way; maybe we are putting too much weight on marriage. But fact is, Harry, Ron, and I, aren't allowed to vote in the Wizengamot until we are twenty-five years of age; so no direct help from us. There is no point in arguing that we have found out about this mess _way_ too late, which is why marrying the right kind of man seems like the only way I could prevent myself and other girls from marrying the wrong kind of man – so that even if the law is pushed through, I can try and find a solution, without being incapacitated by an arsehole."

He carefully observed her. "And the right man is me?"

Hermione bit her lip. "You don't have to do it, Sirius. I can find someone else."

He stepped back and shuffled around a little, before abruptly returning to his previous position, caging her once again. "What about the marriage? It couldn't be a sham, not if you seriously consider bonding. The magic wouldn't allow us to keep the distance."

She got a whiff of his cologne and wasn't sure if she was allowed to breathe in deeper or if it would be too obvious.

"Hmm?"

He steeled his eyes on her. "Have you thought it through? We would need to make it real, there would be no way around it; there would be no annulment, no divorce. Just you and me, for the rest of our bloody lives. Are you prepared to do that?"

She dropped her gaze, biting down the urge to give in to the panic. Was she? Could she _do_ that? What about children? What about _love_? Was she really ready to close the door to that, permanently? Hadn't she already? Was any of that even important, considering the alternative?

She lifted her head again, and his weary look confirmed that he saw the answer in her eyes.

"Are _you_?"

* * *

 _Don't forget to tell me what you think!_


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